My mom lay there on a shiny steel table. I was upside down, paralyzed at the ankles as a man in a bright white coat held me with one hand and examined me with one giant brown eye. Water from his eye slipped down his cheek as he breathed the lingering ether from the general anesthesia. He pulled strips of sticky stuff from my warm red body as I squirmed for a look at my mom, lifeless with a tube taped into her mouth. She didn’t move even when I cried. The man had a soothing voice for such a hard handed grip. He talked to a woman in the corner who wore a stiff white uniform and wrote fast on a hard board. A large round black and white clock ticked and tocked right over her head. The man’s attention turned to flashing red and yellow lights as a pulsating beep brought many footsteps. The man with the big eye handed me to the woman in the white uniform who wrapped me into a warm white towel. I heard my mom moan. I closed my eyes against the bright white lights.
But a year later, hanging from my mother’s hands, I laughed ear to ear as the sea rushed over my sandy feet and brought more joy than any toy. My dad was invisible, working day after day, then there all at once, helping me do circus tricks, flying from his belly with my arms out-stretched as he held my legs real tight. He looked at my mom, who gave him a wink. He just smiled.
In the blink of an eye my brother was born. He was in my mom’s lap, bathed in soft white light from the living room window on Painter Street, sucking away on a large pink breast. Cars honked outside, and there were occasional shouts from the college kids across the street. It was quiet inside, except for the shuffling of feet going by my crib, and the creaking floor boards in the corner where my mom rocked my brother to sleep. I closed my eyes and sucked my thumb loudly, wanting what I could not have.
This memory is vivid, and some say I could not possibly remember that far back, but I do and it seems so real. I think it sticks because I almost lost my mom that day; my birthday. It’s always connected with the ocean though, like a salve that smooths all wounds.
Victoria British Columbia left its prints on me. I was only there once, back in 1973, on the return leg of a leisurely jaunt through B.C. and Alberta. The place seemed magical. I saw my first Belted Kingfisher in Victoria. It was on the west coast. There were Bald Eagles too, but the Kingfisher is the bird I remember best. There were two and they sang. They danced in the air. They flew high, and turned hard. It was a courtship of sorts, and it brought the coast alive.
We spent the late afternoon and evening at Buchart Gardens touring the grand landscape while waiting patiently for the sun to set so we could bask in the garden’s luminous evening light. It was as promised.
I hadn’t been to England yet, but in retrospect, Victoria reminds me of the quaint bits of London. Very proper, yet ever so enchanting. And they have Stand Up Paddleboarding, from flat water to surf.
Today, I’d stay at Ultimate BnB on the West Shore. Within two blocks you can SUP the lagoon or the ocean. The BnB is gorgeous, and the owner loves the water. There are board rental shops at several locations including SUP Victoria and Ocean River Sports.
And there’s great surfing up the west coast at Tofino. You can rent gear at Tofino Paddle Surf. Check out the Tofino SUP Surfing video.
If you have 8 minutes, check out the Naish SUP trip into the northwest. They paddled in flat water, SUP Surfed in Tofino, and paddled by bears. Naish has a full line of stand up paddleboards for flat, surf, downwind, and more. You can s
Naish SUP-tripping up the Pacific Northwest from Naish International on Vimeo.
The wetsuit zipper snagged half way up. He contorted his body this way and that but it just wouldn’t budge. With two deep breaths he gathered himself, grabbed his board, and made quick steps to the shore, where she resolved the tangle and raced him to the waves.
Christmas Eve we ended up on Twin Peaks hoping for a last look at the sun. Wind whipped my hood and burned my cheeks as clouds separated, sending shafts of late light onto the Pacific.
We had a warm and cozy Christmas with our sons and their ladies. Mid afternoon we took the BART into the city for a walk and a meal. I took a few shots inside the Hyatt Regency, and tweaked one with Snapseed.
Tonite the sun begins its return. Today it rained. A lot. That didn’t stop me from getting a walk, nor did it stop the Nor Cal Surf Shop guys from getting wet. The ocean was wreaked, so, they grabbed their SUPs and headed up the creek, with a paddle. Check it out.
This is my inaugural visit to Shannon’s Creative Photo Challenge. I learned about it from a blog I follow, Ohm Sweet Ohm.
This week we’re to show images of landscapes that were taken in the portrait mode. In other words they are taller than wide.
El Capitan through the last bit of diffused light.
Pacifica State Beach at Linda Mar.
I’m still under the weather, and it was raining, but I had to hit the waves with my camera. Mind you my better gear is not rain friendly so I used my little Lumix pocket cam which takes full HD video though its zoom lens is tough to hold steady hand held.
Today there were three paddle boarders in the surf. I met one of them, Rick, after his session. To be fair, he caught a few nice waves while I walked from my car to the rocks where I recorded one good wipeout and the last ride he rode for the day.
This is not your theme-park-man-made wave. It’s the perfect barrel that all surfers fantasize. Whether you have the skill to ride such a wave is another story altogether. The wave is for high-level riders who can keep up with a very steep, ever-charging barrel.
The Kelly Slater Wave Company took this from idea to delivery in 10 years. It’s located at a secret spot some 100 miles from an undisclosed coast.
Kelly has been crowned World Surf League Champion a record 11 times. Check out the inaugural spin on the coolest man-made wonder wave.
Winter solstice is right around the corner and the late afternoon light is kind of errie.
My cold/flu/virus/tired-to-the-bone “whatever it is” seems to be waning. So I walked the 3/4 of a mile to the spot where I’d seen one stand up paddle boarder from my window. He was still there.
The tide was just starting to ebb so some of the wave’s punch was pulled back. BUT, there were surfers from one end of the beach to the other. The light kept slipping in and out of the clouds. One moment it was on the water, then on the hills, then gone. I sat on a piece of plywood someone had left on the rocks. I didn’t take the time to anchor it so I teetered and tottered a bit, which makes shooting video with a long lens a challenge. There was one guy on a fat orange board who caught one wave while I was watching. Mostly I was happy to smell the salt air and hear the hollow roar of waves crashing.
I got one shot of the scene as the light lit up the Rockaway Headlands. That was the last of the light, so I headed home.